


Light of Life

by demonkidpliz



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: Children get kidnapped, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, I don't know how to tag this, M/M, Pets, Seriously though who allowed me to write, Technically the sex is had, There's a lot going on in this fic, You should probably know that, also there is mention of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:23:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8694454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonkidpliz/pseuds/demonkidpliz
Summary: After everything Charles and Erik had been through, they had finally managed to settle down and build a happy home for themselves and their children. Until, a mysterious man from the shadows of the past returns and threatens to take it all away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cherikella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherikella/gifts).



> You probably know by now that summaries are not my strong suit. This fanfic is loosely based on a canon Marvel comic book story. This may seem like a X-Men/Avengers crossover fic, but it's really not. The Avengers are there as side characters because they were part of the canon story.
> 
> The oldest of the X-kids are probably seniors in high school? Pietro and Wanda Maximoff are around sixteen. David Haller is fourteen and Lorna Dane should be around thirteen. All telepathic conversations, including all conversations involving David Haller are in italics.
> 
> This is not-for-profit work of fiction. X-Men and Avengers characters belong to Marvel and Fox. I own nothing.

"I'm going to miss you, Polar Bear," Erik said softly, breathing into Lorna's green hair as he prolonged the hug for as long as possible. His daughter wriggled out his grip, "It's only for a couple of weeks, Papa! I should get to spend some time with my adopted parents as well." She turned to Charles and swooped down to plant a kiss on his cheek, "Take care of him. And David. And the twins!" she said.

"Yes, ma'am!" Charles gave a mock salute, his expression softening, as the green-haired girl turned her back on him. David, Wanda and Pietro stood under the porch waving their goodbyes, squinting in the afternoon sun. Hank helped Lorna put her suitcase into the trunk before climbing into the driver's seat. "Come on, Lorna! At this rate, you'll miss your flight, and I'll be late for my conference in the city," Hank said.

"Coming, Uncle Hank!" Lorna said, with one last wave to her brothers and sister.  She hopped into the seat next to Hank. "Seatbelt!" Charles reminded. Erik and he waited till the car started and made its way up the drive, past the imposing gates of the mansion. The children trooped inside.

Erik sighed, his hands involuntarily reaching out to find Charles's. Charles wrapped his icy, cold fingers around Erik's toasty ones. "It's just fifteen days, love."

Erik murmured, "I know," as he turned around to head back inside the building, trailing Charles's wheelchair alongside him.

Charles was thankful to leave the chilly autumn wind behind and return to the warmth of the mansion. Ororo brushed past them, clutching a lidded coffee cup, presumably on her way to a class or a training session. Some of the younger children were trying to make a competition of who could slide down the bannisters quickest.

Charles telepathic brain caught on to a floating message, coming from one of the upper rooms in the West Wing.

 _"Dad?"_ the tendril of thought came from Pietro. _"May we take the rest of the day off?"_

_"Yes, as long as you and Wanda have finished your homework for tomorrow."_

_"I'm going to take that as a yes!"_

_"Seriously Pietro, I cannot have Principal Kelley summoning me to the school again this term."_

Charles could feel his older son's consciousness drift off. He turned towards Erik. "I'm going to review some papers in the study. You're welcome to join me."

"It's okay, I'm going to find something to do. If you finish early, maybe we can go for a stroll around the grounds?"

Charles nodded, and Erik bent down, in a motion identical to Lorna's, and pecked his cheek. "See you in the evening," he called out as he turned on his heel.

Charles watched his retreating back for a few seconds and then rolled around to make his way to the study. He paused momentarily in front of the stairs. The children had managed to find Evan's skateboard and were planning on using it in their stunts.

"Children! Don't do that. Please go outside and ask Bobby to make you an ice bannister on the lawn." he said, only half-sternly.

The children, led by Jubilee, dispersed, on the hunt for Bobby and other older kids to torment, their excitement undiminished.

……

Upstairs, in Wanda's bedroom, Pietro was going through their board games with alarming speed. "Scotland Yard? Cluedo? Pictionary MONOPOLY?? Come on David, you love this game!"

_"There's just three of us, and I don't want to be the stupid banker."_

"I'll be the banker," Wanda said generously.

 _"Let's just play something else,"_ David replied, lining up the loose threads and lint on Wanda's bedspread in vertical lines.

"Game of Life?" Pietro hovered over the other two, clutching the box to his chest.

David shrugged.

"I've never actually played Game of Life," Wanda said, shifting slightly to make room for Pietro on the bed. She opened the box and began to read the instructions.

……

Charles was downing the dregs of his second cup of Earl Grey when the grandfather clock chimed five. He decided to put away the rest of his papers and call it a day. A quick mental check told him that students were done with their lessons. The kids were in Wanda's room, playing some game. Erik was in the garden, pruning and weeding the flowerbeds.

He was about to wheel himself away from the desk when his landline phone began to ring. "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, how may I help you?" he said in reflex.

"Charles, is that you?"

"Tony? Why are you calling on the landline?"

The man at the other end of the line laughed, "My new JARVIS isn't as efficient as, well, my old JARVIS. She still needs some tweaks. How's life in Westchester?"

"The same. When are we on for our next poker night?" Charles asked, grinning into the mouthpiece.

"Depends on when our dear friend Hope Pym is free. And we need a fourth man...or woman." came the reply.

"So I'm assuming you didn't call about poker night, Tony. What's going on?" Charles inquired.

"You know it's cheating when you read my mind."

"You know I can't read minds through the telephone."

Tony cleared his throat, "I got a call from a guy today. Thought he might be one of yours. Said he was looking for the twins."

"Wait, wait, wait," Charles interrupted him, "Hold on. Who?"

"I had the name written down here somewhere, give me a sec," Charles could hear rustling on the other end of the line, "He said he knows Wanda and Pietro, and he wants to see them? Thick European accent? Spanish? German? I'm not so sure. He said he'd seen pictures on Facebook of the kids and Vis geotagged in Stark Towers and so he's coming to see them. I tried telling him that they don't actually live here, but he hung up before I could get in another word. Anyway, he said he'll be here around 8 or 9 in the evening. You know the guy? Could be one of your mutant-type persons?"

"No, yeah, could be," Charles said, his voice faltering, "He didn't leave a name?"

"Aha!" Tony exclaimed from the other end, "I knew I'd scribbled it down somewhere. Sorry, it was in a bunch of discarded designs that I threw away. Anyway, his name is Django. Not sure whether it's with a D or a J. Ring a bell?"

Charles inhaled sharply. He could hear Erik coming down the corridor into their suite. "Tony, I'm going to have to call you back," he said breathlessly.


	2. Chapter 2

Charles wheeled himself into their bedroom, quietly. He spotted Erik's muddy sneakers near the door. Erik himself was in the bathroom washing his hands and face, humming to himself. He came out, scrubbing his face with a towel and stopped short.

"What's wrong, liebling? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I just a call from Tony," Charles began slowly.

"Oh yeah, what does he want?" Erik said unimpressed, folding the towel neatly and placing it on the rack. He returned to the room and sat down on the bed, motioning Charles to come closer.

"He's been contacted by a man calling himself 'Django'. He says he knows Wanda and Pietro and wants to meet them," Charles said hesitantly, rolling towards his husband. Erik had gone very, very still. Charles could almost feel the cogs in his brain rapidly clicking and whirring as he processed this information.

"That's not possible," Erik said finally, "Django died in a village riot years ago."

"Yes, but..."

"No buts, Charles! When I found the kids, they were all alone, no survivors. Django was dead." Erik said, his eyes narrowing, his whole posture becoming defensive.

"Look, Erik, I know. But what if he did survive? I mean, you thought your wife had died in the fire but..." Charles broke off and winced as Erik glared daggers at him. He'd realised halfway through that sentence that he shouldn't have gone down that road. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean...look, this man is coming to Stark Towers tonight, and he wants to meet them. What do I tell Tony?"

"Tell him to tell that man, who's claiming to be Django, that no one called Pietro or Wanda live there," Erik huffed.

Charles narrowed his eyes.

"It's the truth!" Erik shrugged.

"I really think we should meet this guy in person," Charles said.

"Fine," Erik said, snappishly, "You and I can go down and meet him in person and tell him that we don't know anyone called Pietro or Wanda."

Charles rolled his eyes, "We can't do that, Erik! What if he's really their father?" Erik made a derisive noise at the back of his throat.

"Okay," said Charles, turning his chair around, "I'm going to fetch Wanda and Pietro."

"Excuse me?" Erik started, his powers reflexively kicking and slamming the door shut loudly, making Charles jump. "You are going nowhere. I don't want you telling Wanda or Pietro anything till we've met this man ourselves."

"Erik! They deserve to know!" Charles said, "They've thought him to be dead all these years. If there's the slightest chance that he's still alive, and looking for them, they should be the first to know!"

"We don't even know if this man is who he is claiming to be!" Erik argued, his voice rising. "What good would it do to tell the children?"

"Maybe he is and maybe he isn't," Charles replied, "We should tell them, and let them decide if they want to meet him or not. You've never even seen the man. You don't know what he looks like! If anyone can tell if he's authentic or not, it's the twins."

"Oh my God, Charles, how can you be so unbelievably naive? Of course, they'll want to meet him!"

"Well if they want to meet him then maybe they should get to meet him."

"He's not real! How many times do I have to tell you? Django Maximoff is dead!"

"Please stop yelling, Erik. All of Bayville must have heard you by now."

Erik pursed his lips and turned his head away in anger.

Charles sighed deeply. He turned to face Erik, a hand coming up to touch his cheek. Erik, thankfully, leant into the touch.

"What are you so afraid of, love? If he's a fraud, we'll just leave him to Tony's devices. And if he is who he says he is, well, the children will be reunited with their father. Is that so bad?"

Erik didn't reply. His hand came up to touch the one Charles's was resting on his cheek. He locked his eyes on Charles's blue one. As blue as the Cornish sea. He didn't want to tell Charles that he didn't like it when their children went off to their other parents because he thought it made him sound petty. He didn't want to vocalise how much he cared for them. How hard he had worked to bring them together and build this family. From experience, he knew that moments of peace, like this were always fleeting. What they had was so special, yet fragile, that Erik lived in constant fear it would be taken away from him. That ugly feeling cropped up every time Gaby stopped by to pick up David or Lorna put a suitcase in the trunk of her car to be on her way to San Francisco. Even though it was illogical, and he knew it. He couldn't bear to think that there would be a point where he might have to say goodbye to the twins too. They were the only reminder he had left of a simple life long forgotten, when he was just a human, with a wife and a child and job and a house. When he wasn't Magneto.

He couldn't bring himself to say any of this to Charles. Charles, who loved like love wasn't a zero sum game. Charles, who had adopted orphans and foster children and stepchildren and homeless adults with the same loving abandon. Charles who had been painfully neglected his whole life and now made sure that every one of the multitudes of residents living in his mansion never felt a quantum of loneliness, who had converted this forlorn, imposing building into a home for their people.

Erik wasn't sure how much of his thoughts Charles picked up from the surface but he eventually gave in. Sighing, he got up, shuffled around looking for his slippers and finally said, "Okay, let's go tell them."

Charles nodded, following him out the door.

……

"It's my turn!" Pietro roared, snatching the dice from his twin's hand.

David and Wanda turned their heads as they sensed two people in the corridor. "Dad and Vati are coming, you cheater," Wanda said, sticking her tongue at the silver-haired teen.

Erik leant against the door frame, "What are you kids playing?"

"Game of Life," the twins chorused in unison.

 _"Game of Life,"_ David intoned in everyone's head.

"David, why don't you go down to the greenhouse? Aunty Ororo is watering the plants, and she could use some help. We need to talk to your brother and sister." Charles said, kindly.

David nodded, clearing up his pieces from the board. As soon as David left the room, Wanda's face fell. Pietro gulped, "Are we in trouble? Did Principal Kelley call you again?"

"No, Pietro, you're not in trouble," Erik said kindly, moving in the room. He drew out Wanda's chair and sat down on it, facing his children. "Charles and I would like to tell you something."

"Your Uncle Tony called earlier this evening. He received a call from a man who said he knows you two. He found pictures of you online on a social media platform and wants to meet the two of you." Charles said, pausing, "His name is Django."

Charles's words were met with stunned silence and identical pairs of flint-blue eyes, wide with shock.

"That's impossible," Pietro said hoarsely, breaking the silence after what felt like ages, "Django died in the riot in our village, four years ago."

"It can't be," Wanda said, shaking her head, "If he'd been alive, he would have come back for us. He would never have left us to fend for ourselves."

"I know, darling," Charles said softly, "This is probably all a big misunderstanding. I've told Uncle Tony that your Vati and I will go down and talk to this man and then we can put all of this behind us. Okay? I just wanted to let you guys know."

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on!" Pietro exclaimed, "Are you kidding?"

Wanda looked quickly from Charles to Erik to Charles again, "Yeah, we're going to need to see him for ourselves."

"Are you sure..." Erik began.

"Oh, we're sure," Pietro said with finality.

"Yes, Vati, I want to see for myself the man who called himself our father, and left us to starve on the streets of Sokovia," Wanda said, getting up and taking her coat down from the hook, "Let's go."

Pietro whizzed out, reaching the foot of the stairs before either Charles or Erik had had a chance to blink.

 _"This may be a bad idea,"_ Charles said tentatively to Erik through their shared telepathic bond.

_"You think? I told you..."_

_"Well, how was I supposed to know that they would threaten to go all Magneto on him?"_

_"The apples don't fall far from the tree, Charles."_


	3. Chapter 3

_"What if he's really not dead?"_

_"That's not possible."_

_"But what if..."_

_"Wanda, you're overthinking things as usual! I'm telling you it's not possible."_

_"What if he looked for us and didn't know we'd left for America? What if he's been looking for us all over Europe, all these years?"_

_"Wanda! Stop it. I'm telling you, it's not him. It can't be him."_

Charles made an extra effort to block out the twins' telepathic exchange and focused instead on his driving. Erik was sitting next to him, his shoulders stiff and his cold, blue eyes unmoving. This was going to be a long ride.

Charles was glad when the bright red 'A' of the Stark Towers came into view. Tony buzzed them in and Charles maneuvered the great Rolls-Royce into one of the guest parking spots.

The elevator dinged as the four of them entered the penthouse suite. With the warm yellow lights, the soft jazz music on in the background, and the incomplete game of chess on the coffee table, the place was a far cry from what Tony Stark's home would have looked like a few years prior.

"Hi, kids!" Natasha called out from behind the bar where she was pouring out a drink.

"Hello, Aunt Nat," the twins replied.

Tony walked in, "Charles! Buddy. Good to see you, as always." He leant in for a hug. "Erik," he nodded stiffly at the surly German. "You guys are early! Our man still hasn't arrived yet. Want anything to drink?"

Charles and Erik shook their heads. The twins also politely declined.

"Uncle Tony, is Vis at home?" Wanda asked.

"Of course. He was playing chess with Rhodey sometime back. Vision! Your friends are here!"

The tall, shy android ambled into the room. He made a beeline for the twins, taking turns to hug them, his hand lingering on Wanda's back.

"This is my fault," he mumbled apologetically, "If I hadn't put up those pictures..."

"Hey man, don't apologise," Pietro said quickly.

"Yes, who knows Vis? Maybe this will all work out for the best," Wanda said, smiling.

"Why don't you sit, Erik?" Charles asked quietly.

"I'm fine, Charles. Just want to get this over and done with."

"Okay, you can keep lurking here. I'm going to go over and say hello to Colonel Rhodes."

"Professor!" Rhodey exclaimed, "'It's been a while! How is the school?"

The two exchanged a few pleasantries. Charles enquired about the rest of the Avengers.

"Oh, no one's here now," Rhodey replied. "Just me. And Nat," he added as an afterthought. Charles swivelled around to look at the bar counter where Tony and Natasha were talking over their drinks.

"Any news from Dr. Banner?" Charles asked carefully.

"Not a peep," said Rhodey pursing his lips, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't bring up his name in front of Tony, Vision or Natasha, Prof. Bit of a sensitive topic."

"Of course," Charles said hastily.

FRIDAY announced the arrival of a new visitor.

"Put him in the dining hall, FRIDAY," Tony called out, "We're going to go downstairs, Charles, give you guys some privacy. That means you too, Vis. Come on buddy."

The others cleared out. Wanda and Pietro clutched each other's hands.

"You ready, sis?"

"Let's find out."

Charles and Erik followed slowly in the twins' footsteps. A solitary man stood at the far end of the hall, his back turned to them, keenly observing Stark's wall decor. He wore a long, black overcoat, rather travel-worn, and he had long, wild, curly hair. He turned slightly to show a face full of shaggy, black beard and an impressive moustache. His faint, grey eyes grew wide on seeing Pietro and Wanda.

"Children," he cried, throwing his arms out wide.

The twins seemed to have overcome their misgivings because they threw themselves into his arms with multiple, incoherent shouts.

Django held on to them tightly for several minutes, overwhelmed with emotion at being reunited with the two children, unable to say anything, except murmur endearments at them.

When they finally broke apart, Django's beard was wet and both kids had tears running down their cheeks.

"Look at how much you two have grown! Pietro, my son, my boy - you are almost a man now! And Wanda, my sweet love, you look more and more like your mother now. Oh! Marya and Magda would be so proud to see you both if they were alive," the man exclaimed.

"We thought you were dead," Wanda said quietly, slipping her hand into Django's, her voice thick with emotion.

"I know, I know my sweet. What can I say? I knew the day would come and that you two would turn out to be different, like him," he said nodding in Erik's general direction, "There would be no place for us in the village. When the riot broke out, I knew the villagers would not rest till they killed us. I went into hiding, hoping and praying that you and your brother would make it to safety, using your special powers. I lay low till the threat had passed, and once it was safe, I came out of hiding and searched everywhere for you. Not a day passed by and I didn't look for a sign for where you two could have gone. Not in my wildest dreams did I imagine that you would come to America that too with that man. But you know what? I saw that picture of the two of you, with that boy with the red face, Vision, and I was so glad that you were alive and safe and happy, that nothing even mattered anymore."

"How did you even find us?" Pietro asked amazed.

"The photograph said it was taken at Stark Towers in New York? I asked around and everybody seemed to know of Tony Stark. I found his number and I called him up, told him, I am coming for my children." Django smiled, squeezing Pietro's shoulder, "Once I knew where you two were, there was no force on Earth that could have stopped me from coming to you."

Charles turned slightly, observing Erik's general grim expression. He reached out his hand to catch Erik's. "Come on love, why don't we wait in the lounge for a bit, and give them some privacy. They obviously have a lot of catching up to do."

Erik's shoulders slumped, as he reluctantly turned to walk out, intertwining his fingers with Charles.

"I never thought I would see your precious faces again," Django said, pulling the twins into another hug, "And now that I have you back, I never want to leave you again. Pack your bags, children. We are going home."

Erik stopped abruptly. Charles chair came to a screeching halt on Tony's marble floor, as his arm was yanked back. They both exchanged a look of dismay and spun around.


	4. Chapter 4

"Going home?" Pietro asked wide-eyed, "To Europe?"

"Our term hasn't ended yet. I still have to submit my Chemistry project!" Wanda protested.

"Chemistry project?" Django said non-plussed, "What are you talking about?"

"Mrs. Santiago's going to be really mad if we don't hand in the project before the break. It's worth a lot of credits," Pietro rambled. "But the term break is coming up! We were going to go to the Hamptons with Dad and Vati, but I'm sure they'll understand."

"No, no Chemistry projects, no Hamptons. You're coming with me to Europe, for good." Django said.

"Django, that's..." Wanda started, "We have to be here. We have school. And training at home. And Dad and Vati and David and Lorna..."

"And what of me? Am I not your father? Are we not a family? Did we not have a home? Am I nothing to you? Did I waste all these years, desperately seeking you out, all for nothing?" Django interjected fiercely.

"We could go for a while," Pietro began slowly, "A couple of semesters. We could try and get our credits transferred. I'm sure Dad knows a way to get it done," He turned to look at his twin, "What do you think, Wanda?"

Wanda sighed, "I do miss Europe."

"No!" Erik interrupted violently, "This is not up for discussion. You wanted to meet Django, you've met him. There is no question of you going to Europe, not now, not ever!"

"Erik!" Charles admonished.

Wanda narrowed her eyes, "You can't force us to stay here."

"Oh really!" Erik snapped sarcastically, "I can and I will. This has gone on for long enough. Pietro, get your things. We are leaving."

"No," said Pietro, hesitantly, "I don't want to leave Django."

"Was I not clear the first time?" Erik snarled. "Get your things and let's go!"

"Enough!" Charles said sharply, "Erik, you cannot address the children like that. They are old enough to know what they want. Please give them a chance to speak their mind."

"I don't care what they want," Erik said, bordering on hysterics, "I am taking them and I am leaving now!"

"No, we are staying and resolving this like adults," Charles interjected hotly, "Please Erik, for once in your life, be reasonable. Not everything has to be a fight."

"Yes, Charles, it does! You fight for the ones you love, otherwise, you lose them!"

The raw emotion behind his words stunned Charles. He took a split second to make a decision and slowly turned his chair to look at the twins.

"Wanda, Pietro," he asked softly, his bright, blue eyes beseeching, "I need to hear from you. What do you really want?"

Wanda clutched the Romani man's arm. "We want to go with Django, for now at least." Pietro nodded in acquiescence.

Charles thought back of all of the times his heart had been broken, by his first girlfriend at the age of fourteen, by Moira, by Gabrielle, Amelia...even Erik, and how even the sum of that didn't add up to a fraction of the near physical pain that shot through his heart at this very instant.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, "Well if that's what you really want..."

"Well, at least you are an honest man, Xavier," Django drawled, "Which is more than what can be said of that pathetic excuse of a human being over there," he said motioning to Erik's stiff, upright figure.

He took a few steps towards the mutant. "I never thought I'd have to see your sorry face. For years I tried to keep the children away from your hands. The day Magda showed up at my doorstep, I vowed that they would never have to be a part of your cursed life again. But I couldn't save poor Magda! She died, her head resting on my beloved wife's lap, still in the hope that you would give up your poisonous dreams of revenge and come back to her. She was a fool to hope for you. You weren't worthy of her love. You were nothing more than a murderer!"

Erik flinched, Django's harsh words lashing at him like a whip, reopening old, festering wounds. The lights flickered ominously.

"Mr. Maximoff, you are overstepping your bounds," Charles warned in his 'professor' voice.

Django brushed aside the interruption, "Killing Nazis in one thing, Lehsnherr. But your own daughter?"

"I didn't kill her!" Erik yelled, his face thunderous, "It was an accident!"

"Is that what you tell yourself so that you can sleep at night?" Django tutted.

"What daughter?" Wanda said faintly.

Django let out a mirthless laugh, "Your Vati never told you?" he sneered, "Sweet, baby Anya. As beautiful as her mother. She was three years old when the villagers in Kazimierz, where they lived, came to know of his special abilities. They burned their house down with Anya in it. Your mother barely escaped with her life. She couldn't go back to that madman," he said, wildly pointing in Erik's general direction, "She couldn't tell him that she was pregnant with you two. All he cared for was revenge. He murdered the villagers in their beds. No remorse. He spared no one. And then, of course, he hightailed to Israel. Did you even care, Lehnsherr? Did you even look for her? Or were you just glad to be rid of your wife and child so that you could continue with your grand plans?"

"Why didn't you tell us?" Wanda asked, her eyes full of tears, her voice choking.

Erik looked on helplessly from Wanda's stricken face to Pietro's.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to achieve, Mr. Maximoff, but I am going to have to ask you to stop," said Charles coldly. His lips were set in a thin line and he was radiating silent fury. "Stop, or I shall make you."

"You can't scare me with your circus tricks, Xavier," Django said, snapping his fingers, "Seduce Lehnsherr, maybe. Entrap my children with a life of wealth and false promises, yes. But they don't need you anymore. In fact, it's time they learnt a thing or two about who you really are, don't you think?"

Charles looked at him bewildered, unsure of what this demented man's next move would be. He hesitated from blatantly reading his mind because Wanda was sure to intercept it and he did not want to upset the Scarlet Witch any more than she already was.

"Tell me, Lehnsherr, did you go to Tel Aviv for the sole purpose of recruiting Xavier for your revenge mission?" Django said, turning to sneer at Erik.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Erik said coldly. That was at least, partially, the truth.

"Did you or did you not go to Israel to follow up on a lead on Schmidt?"

"Yes..."

"Even though Magda begged and begged you not to."'

"Yes, but Magda didn't understand..."

"And did you not entail Xavier's help to track him down and finish him off?"

Pietro's hand came to cover his mouth that was wide open with shock.

"No! I never intended Charles to be a part of this. I was supposed to go after Shaw alone. I honestly believed Magda to be dead. I had nothing to live for and so I went after Shaw..."

"Shaw! Shaw! Shaw!," Django spat, staining Tony's beautiful carpeted floor, "Magda died hoping that you would forget your thirst for revenge and come back to her..."

"Magda didn't understand anything!" Erik yelled, frustrated, louder than he had meant to. The twins jumped involuntarily. Erik had been pushed to his limits now. "She wanted me to stop going after him. She didn't understand that I had to kill him. Charles did! And so he helped me!"

"He WHAT?" the twins screamed in unison, looking disbelieving from Erik to Charles.

Erik realised immediately that he had made a huge blunder. "No, I didn't mean..."

"That's not what he meant," Charles said half-heartedly, "It's not what it sounds like." He turned furiously to face Django, "This is my last warning to you, Mr. Maximoff. Stop, or I shall make you."

Django smirked satisfactorily, "Do you see, children? The truth behind the people you call your fathers. They're not fit to be your parents. They're not fit to be any one's parents. They're just a pair of ugly murderers, deserving of each other's miserable company."

He turned to take a shell-shocked Pietro's hand into his own, "Remember, I held you the minute you were born. Your sister was still on the way! I loved you two like my own children. I begged for you, I stole for you. I even went to jail for you. I watched my own wife die in front of my own eyes, just so that I could keep you two safe. Without me, you two would have died, just like your baby sister, Anya."

He reached out for Wanda's hand as well, encasing it in his own, "They are not your fathers. I am. Come with me."


	5. Chapter 5

In retrospect, Charles should have sensed that Erik would have pulled out all the stops, long before his husband actually did. Erik had an innate ability to do the worst possible things and make matters infinitely worse than they already were. And no one knew this better than Charles.

Except perhaps their children, who were prepared for any eventuality.

The electromagnetic interference made the lights in Tony Stark's dining hall flicker and spark, and before anyone had a chance to react the twenty-seater dining table levitated as if on its own accord and hurtled towards Django.

Pietro rushed towards him in a blink of an eye and moved him out of harm's way, as the table crashed into the wall, leaving an impressive dent. A few of the light fixtures blew out, for good measure.

"Vati!" Pietro admonished, running ahead to put himself in between Erik and Django. "I don't care if he's a human, you can't do this!"

"You don't have to worry about me, son," Django said gravely, "I knew that it would come to this. I know what he is capable of. Fortunately for you, I have come prepared."

The man muttered some curious chants, that even Wanda was unfamiliar with, invoking the ancient magic of his people, placing an invisible bind around Erik.

The master of magnetism was flung, much like a giant rag doll, and he ultimately crumpled to the floor, his hands by his side, completely powerless.

"Stop it!" Charles screamed, a psionic blast emitting from his mind, in an attempt to free Erik from Django's mystic clutches. The blast emanated across the room, stronger than what Charles had bargained for, throwing Django off his feet. Charles tried to wheel himself closer to Erik's prone body.

"I told you, Xavier, you're not going to use your tricks against me," Django said, picking himself up from the floor. He wiped his bleeding lip on the sleeve of his sullied coat.

Charles looked up to see Wanda blocking his way. "Dad," she said, her ice-blue eyes boring into his, "Don't do this. He's just a human. He's no match for you. Let me talk to him instead."

Charles ignored Wanda in favour of communicating with Erik, mentally. _"Erik, can you hear me? Erik, love?"_

 _"Charles, do it. Freeze him, kill him, knock him out, do something,"_ Erik responded, gritting his teeth, making a valiant effort to lift himself off the ground.

Charles turned towards the visitor, two fingers gently pressed to the side of the temple. "Go to slee..."

"I warned you!" Django thundered, "No tricks!"

Charles was unsure of what exactly happened, but he found himself thrown against the wall with unimaginable force. His wheelchair fell several feet away from him, on its side, one of the wheels still spinning from the impact. He tried to raise his head, which immediately started to spin, and was overcome by nausea. He blinked, and the dining room swam in and out of focus.

"Django, I cannot believe you would..."

"Stop it! Stop it now!"

He could hear more enraged shouting from the twins. He tried lifting his head again. Another wave of nausea hit him. Erik was still lying on his side, doubled over, clutching his stomach.

The yelling was interrupted by a flash of bright red light, and then everything went quiet.

"I really wish you hadn't done that, Wanda." Charles could hear Django's placid voice floating from above him. He angled his head to get a better look at him. It didn't help much because his vision was still blurry.

Django had taken out a dirty, dull, green stone from the inner pocket of his travelling coat. He released the stone and it floated in front of him, at the level of his chest. He tapped it twice, and it glowed to life. Almost instantly, two wisps of grey, white smoke flew into the glowing stone, just as it returned to its original colour.

Pietro and Wanda's bodies hit the floor with two simultaneous thuds. Wanda, who was closer to Charles, had her arm outstretched, her lifeless, frosty eyes staring glassily into nothingness.

 _"No, no, no, no, no, you can't be,"_ Charles thought, shifting to look towards the other end of the hall.

Erik had his hands outstretched, trying desperately to reach Pietro, who was lying face-down. His fingertips were inches from his son's shiny, silver hair.

All of a sudden, there was an ominous crack.

Django had disappeared, along with Wanda and Pietro, leaving behind nothing but a faint trail of greyish white smoke.


	6. Chapter 6

For a person like Charles, who's mutant powers heightened all his senses at all times, the minutes that followed were confusing and painful at best.

His vision was still blurry and he kept seeing spots. He was unable to shake the image of Wanda's open, empty eyes staring into the void. A tinny sound pervaded his ears, punctured by a familiar voice calling out his name. And the acrid smell of smoke left behind by the disappearing Django still hung in the air, making him want to retch.

"Charles! Charles! Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

The familiar voice became louder and clearer.

"Charles? What the hell happened? Jesus! You're bleeding! Nat! Get me the first aid kit."

"Charles," Tony's voice was gentler this time, "Can you hear me? This is going to sting a little bit. I'm just going to patch this up."

Charles felt a cool, burning sensation on the edge of his forehead.

"Lehnsherr, are you alright? Can you get up? Nat, give him a hand."

Moments later Charles felt his own weight being supported by Tony and Rhodey as he was hoisted on to his now upright chair.

"Where are Wanda and Pietro?" a nervous Vision asked softly, hovering in the background.

"Is she dead?" Charles asked groggily, "She was dead...I saw...Did she die...?"

"What are you talking about?" Tony interrupted, "Who's dead? No one's dead. Where are the kids? And where's that guy, Django?"

"Move," said Erik quietly, brushing past Tony and the other Avengers. He knelt in front of Charles.

"Charles, lieb," he breathed, "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

He looked searchingly into Charles's eyes before taking his head into his hands and inspecting the wound closely.

"M'fine," Charles muttered, trying to brush away Erik's hands.

"This the handiwork of your husband?" Tony addressed Charles, pointing to the general devastation of the dining hall.

"Yes. No. Mostly. Django attacked us, Tony," Charles said, the words rushing out of him, as his senses fine-tuned him back into reality again, "He took the twins and he incapacitated Erik and me. He was using some kind of mystic power, sourced from a green stone."

"Green stone?" Natasha interrupted, "FRIDAY, get me S.H.I.E.L.D's files on classified assets," she said, turning to Tony, "Worth taking a look. S.H.I.E.L.D usually keeps tabs on things like that."

"We have to go after him, Tony. I'm going to need to get back to the Mansion." Charles said.

"Right," replied Tony, "FRIDAY, ready the jet. Rhodey who do you think we can call on short notice?"

"Falcon. Maybe the Cap," Rhodey replied promptly.

"I can get Barton to come in," Natasha called out, furiously typing in codes to access the S.H.I.E.L.D files FRIDAY had found.

"Tony, I need my X-Men. I don't think the Avengers can help us," Charles said, wheeling himself out of the hall.

"I think you need all the help you can get, my friend," Tony called out, pressing controls to ready his suit.

Vision appeared, in full battle armour, complete with his cape. "The jet is prepared," he said.

"And where do you think you're going, young man?" Tony cut in.

"After Django Maximoff. To rescue Pietro and Wanda," came the prompt reply.

"Oh, I don't think so," Tony said, shaking his head.

"You cannot be serious," Vision said, his eyes widening, "This is important to me."

"This is also very dangerous for you," Tony replied, "I'm not sure you should be going after this unstable man who has a green stone of magic. You're going to have to ask your father."

"You are my father!"

"No, the other one."

"He's not here," Vision said in a frustrated tone.

Tony shrugged, "Well, what do you know. We've reached an impasse."

"Tony," Charles interrupted pointedly, "I think Vision should be allowed to go. We might be up against something greater than humans and mutants. For all you know, an android who can harness the power of an infinity stone might come in handy."

Vision gave Tony a look as if to say that if he was good enough for Professor X, he should be good enough for the Iron Man, and turned to leave for the jet.

Tony called out after him, "Alright, but you are staying behind me at all times, Mister!" He sighed in a frustrated manner, suiting up all the while muttering under his breath.

……

Erik was unnaturally quiet for the entirety of the aeroplane ride. Tony and Nat kept going over the rescue plan. Sam Wilson and Clint Barton would be joining the rest of the team at Westchester.

"Any idea where we should start looking, Charles?" Tony called out from the pilot's seat.

"No," Charles sighed, "I need access to Cerebro for that."

Charles turned towards his husband in the adjacent seat. He debated whether or not he should take a peek inside Erik's head to see what he was thinking.

As it had always been with Erik, right from the start, Charles didn't need to fully exercise his powers to get the gist of Erik's mind. It was a curious thing. For such a private person, Erik broadcasted his emotions strongly and Charles was always able to pick them up, even from afar, with next to no effort. He wasn't sure whether it was because his husband's mind was attuned to his, or whether they shared a bond, as many telepathic couples have been known to, or whether Erik just had an unusually bright and open mind, a contrast to his brusque, curmudgeonly exterior.

A perfunctory glance told him that Erik was feeling white, hot rage. Coupled with a deep festering shame and sadness that Charles had come to associate with any thoughts centred around Magda and Anya. He also felt a palpable amount of fear. Fear for his children's lives.

_"You think I don't know when you're in here?"_

_"I didn't mean to startle you."_

_"Did you see them...when he...you know..."_

_"I can't be sure of what I saw, Erik."_

_"Do you really think that they could be...dead?"_

_"That man may have no scruples, Erik, but I know he wants the children. Wanda and Pietro are of no use to him dead."_

With that, Charles exited abruptly from his mind. Erik sighed, missing the sensation, that had evaporated as suddenly as it had appeared. He nodded grimly, taking small comfort in the echoes of Charles's thoughts, and trailed his fingers over Charles's, interlacing them with his own. Charles kept his fingers firmly on the armrest of his chair but did not withdraw from the touch.

……

As the jet landed on the hidden runway, Hank ran out to receive Charles and Erik.

"What's going on, Professor?" he huffed, his large feet pitter-pattering against the concrete, "What's the emergency? Oh no! How did you get hurt?"

Charles informed him of the situation as briefly as possible. "I'm going to need all the available X-Men in the Strategy Room as soon as possible. Ask Scott to gather everyone. I need you to help me start up Cerebro."

As the entered the corridors of the Mansion, Erik took off, presumably to their room to suit up. Hank blasted the klaxons in an attempt to stir the X-Men into duty.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Wolverine breathed, putting down the can of beer he had just opened for himself.

A slight figure in pyjamas and a flimsy t-shirt caught up with them in the corridor.

_"Dad? Are you hurt?"_

"David?" Charles stopped, "Why are you still awake? Why are you barefoot? And where's your jumper? You'll catch a cold, dear."  
  
 _"Where's Wanda and Pietro?"_ the boy counteracted, unfazed by the questions.

"David, I'm so sorry, but there's been a crisis. Wanda and Pietro are most likely in danger and we have to go after the man who took them..."

_"Was it Django Maximoff?"_

"Yes," Charles paused, "David, I know this is confusing. But I can't deal with this right now. Why don't you go to your room and Papa and I will come in some time and explain it to you?"

Charles hurried on down the corridor, cursing himself, leaving the forlorn-looking boy alone in the shadows. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out to see a message flashing on the screen.

**"Hi Dad, just wanted to say that I've reached SF. My aunt and uncle have picked me up from the airport. I can't get through to you or Papa so I'll just call you tomorrow. <3 <3 <3 Lorna"**

Charles debated on what to send her in reply and finally settled for pocketing his phone and unlocking the door to Cerebro.

"Well the term break's started for most of the school so a lot of the X-Men have gone home," Scott said apologetically, coming up behind him.

"Who do we have?" Charles said, tapping his fingers impatiently on the side of his chair as Cerebro whirred to life.

"Rogue, Wolverine, Gambit, Storm," Scott rambled, ticking the names off his fingers, "And Dr. McCoy and me."

"Okay. Assemble everyone in the War Room. And let's get the Blackbird ready." Charles turned towards Cerebro as Scott's footsteps faded down the hallway.

"Django Maximoff. Where are you hiding my children?" he muttered, lowering the probe onto his skull.

The first five minutes revealed nothing. Charles did two quick scans of all mutant minds across the globe and failed to identify either Wanda or Pietro's.

"Come on, this shouldn't be so hard," Charles prodded himself on, "You've found them before with less to go on."

_"You won't find them easily if they're asleep, or unconscious. Or not in control of their minds."_ a voice called out in his head.

"David," Charles almost jumped. "I thought I asked you to stay in your room." As a telepath, he wasn't used to be taken by surprise, unless it was by, well, other telepaths.

_"I did. But you said you or Papa would come. And when you didn't, I came to look for you,"_ David replied. He came and stood behind the chair. He had changed out of his pyjamas into full training gear.

"How did you even get in?" Charles asked, moving the computer controls to scan another hemisphere of the globe.

David shrugged, _"I told the computer I was Professor Xavier."_

"Right..." said Charles, "This isn't helping. I should have been able to find them by now."

_"Maybe you should try looking for the man,"_ David intoned quietly.

"Yes, but he's a human. There's billions of them. It's statistically impossible to look for one man out of so many with no discernable characteristics."

_"Yes, but, what if you knew where he was going? Then you could narrow it down to a locality,"_ David argued.

Charles turned slightly to look at him, "You have a point there, love. Django was carrying this stone with him, a probable power source that can transport him from place to place."

David nodded, _"So we look for a mind that is moving from one place to another but not too far. Because he's carrying two unconscious teenagers with him. He probably won't want to attract too much attention to himself."_

"So if I were Django, where would I go with the twins? Upstate?" Charles muttered, turning to look at the screen illuminated by billions of tiny red dots.

_"Europe,"_ David replied simply, _"He would take them home, somewhere they've been before."_

"But where? They never stayed put in one place for very long. Poland? Germany? Sokovia?"

_"No, Sokovia's too far east,"_ David shook his head, _"We don't know how powerful his source of magic is. If he's just crossed the Atlantic, he will probably try and lay low in the west for a while."_

"England?" Charles tried again, "No. That doesn't make sense. They haven't been to England before."

_"You should try France,"_ David replied, _"They did spend a couple of years there when their foster mother was still alive."_

Charles hovered over the country for a while, trying to pick up readings.

"I think I may have him," he said finally. "But I can't be sure. He's moving around too fast for me to get the exact coordinates but at least I know which direction we can send the jet in."

David inched towards Charles, his piercing blue eyes full of hope, _"Dad, may I go with the X-Men to save Wanda and Pietro?"_

Charles schooled his face into an impassive expression as he replied, "Oh, David. No, it's far too dangerous."

_"I want to help, Dad. I'll be careful. The X-Men and the Avengers will be there. I'll be safe!'_

Charles sighed. "It's not your safety that I'm worried about. It's the X-Men and the Avengers'. David, I'm sorry, but you're not ready. You need a lot more training before you can even think of participating in a team. You still don't have..."

_"Control over my powers. Yeah, I know."_ David finished glumly.

Charles unhooked himself from the machine. "You can stay here and help me keep track of Django on Cerebro. You were really good at that!"

Charles left to meet the rest of the team in the Strategy Room. David made his way upstairs to the West Wing.

He knocked on his parents' bedroom door and pushed it open. Erik was adorning his full Magneto gear.

_"Dad found a probable location,"_ David volunteered, coming to a stop a few feet away, watching in fascination as Erik wielded his powers to fit the armour around his body.

Erik nodded stiffly, attaching one end of his cape to the shoulder pad.

_"Do you think I can go with you and the X-Men to save Wanda and Pietro?"_ David ventured casually.

"I think we need to listen to your father on this one, schatz," Erik said gently. "You will be ready one day, I know it."

He ran an ungloved hand through David's bright, golden hair, making a mental note to give it a trim once he got back. For years David had not allowed anyone but his mother to cut his hair, until a few months ago when Erik had finally won him over. As with everything David, the climb was uphill, but once he got there, it was very rewarding. Erik took a reluctant step back, a pang of grief piercing through him, as he longed to give his son a parting hug, but knew he couldn't.

David's telepathy must have been stronger than Erik anticipated because without warning the boy leant in and offered him a shy, one-armed hug.

_"Come back safe, Papa. And bring back Pietro and Wanda."_

Erik nodded briefly, wrapping his arms gently around him, his chin resting on top of David's head, because of the height difference. _'Though probably not for long,'_ he thought to himself, _'Given how fast all the children are growing.'_

He loosened his grip, "Now you be a good kid, and stay out of trouble till I come back with the twins, okay?"

David nodded quietly and then turned to leave, gently shutting the door behind him. Erik pulled on his gloves and boots and finally turned to pick up the helmet.

He was about to put it on, when the doorknob turned and Charles entered the room, wheeling himself in, a stack of papers on his lap.

He paused for a millisecond, to look at the helmet in Erik's hand and then continued towards the low bookshelf.

"Did you talk David out of going on the rescue mission?" he asked briskly, as he took out some files.

"Yes. He said we have a location on the children?" Erik said, momentarily abandoning his helmet on the bedside table.

Charles nodded. "It's not accurate, but it's the best I can do now. Hank has the coordinates and I will update them on Blackbird when I have more information." He began to stack the papers neatly into his binder.

Erik crossed the room towards him, "Aren't you going to suit up? Or are you going like that? No offence, darling, but I don't think Ermenegildo Zegna is the most effective of combat-wear."

Charles sighed, "I'm not going." He added after a pause, "Oh, and Tony asked me to tell you that he's offering you a ride in his jet. In case, you don't want to go in the Blackbird with the X-Men."

"Wait what?" Erik said frowning, coming to stand in front of Charles.

"Well, it is nice of him to offer. He doesn't have the highest opinion in the world about you. But don't worry, I've shared the coordinates with him as well and he'll be tracking the Blackbird at all times."

"I don't care about Stark!" Erik said, brushing the topic aside, "Why aren't you coming?"

"I need access to Cerebro to give you updated locations," Charles replied.

"You can bring the portable Cerebro onto the Blackbird," Erik argued.

Charles sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple, and then pulled them away quickly with a wince as they touched the bandage, still damp with blood. "Erik, the portable Cerebro doesn't have a good enough range. We need to be prepared if we are going after this man. And if he plans on using his magical stone, which I'm sure he will, I won't be able to use my powers, and let's face it, I'm more of a hindrance without them, anyway."

"Charles," Erik interrupted softly.

Charles closed his eyes, willing the pounding in his head to go away, "Believe me, Erik. I am of more use to us here. Hank will be done refuelling the jet in a bit. You should go." He turned his head away from his husband, his hands fumbling as he tried to rearrange the files back on the shelf.

_Don't think about this. Don't dwell on it. Just take the stupid painkillers and be done with it. You don't need a drink. You don't need a drink. You still have work to do. You need to find the children. The children need to be found. David is all alone here in your care. Don't look at Erik. Don't look at him. Do not look at him. Just let him take his helmet and go..._

"Charles," Erik called out sharply this time. He turned the chair, to face him, dropping to his knees, and taking his face in his palms, "What's going on liebling?"

"Erik, just go," he said, his voice thick. He swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked away the tears. Oh, how he'd wanted to avoid crying in front of Erik.

For a moment Charles thought that Erik was about to heed his words, because he withdrew his hands, and stood up. But seconds later he felt strong arms lifting him out of the chair and setting them on their bed.

"What's wrong?" Erik tried again, holding him close.

Charles shook his head, "This is all my fault."

He looked at Erik. Erik's face went very still as he did what appeared to be some mental calculations. "No, it isn't," he said, finally, puzzled at how Charles had come to that conclusion.

"It is!" Charles insisted, "I should have listened to you. I should never have let the kids meet this Django in person!", he said, his trembling hands clutching the creases of Erik's cape where they joined at the shoulder pads.

Erik shrugged, "Yes, but you had no means of knowing that the man was going to turn out to be a psychopath. He did this to our kids, Charles. Not you." His hands covered in armour and gloves, slowly encircled around Charles's back, drawing him closer, "You have to let it go, my love," he murmured into the spot just below his ear, "Nobody thinks this is your fault."

Charles nodded, half-heartedly, desperately trying to wipe his tears, "When you find the children, will you tell them, that I so very badly want them to come back here? To Westchester? To me? Even if it's not what they want, I will always want them. This is their home." he said, lightly resting his cheek on Erik's shoulder pad.

Erik gave a not-so-subtle grunt, "When I find the children, they will have to come back to Westchester, because Django will be dead, and their little Europe trip will be over," his gloved hand stroking the back of Charles's neck.

Charles widened his eyes as he pulled away from Erik's embrace. "You cannot be serious, Erik. No, no, no, you cannot kill Django!"

If Erik's expression was anything to go by, it conveyed that he could and he would.

"Look at it this way," Charles said desperately, "Despite his faults, he is a parent and he was a primary caregiver to your children. How would Lorna react if you tried to harm her aunt and uncle? Or what would David do if you tried to kill Gaby?"

"Well if Gaby ever tries to smash your skull in, I might have to re-evaluate my relationship with her," Erik said ungraciously.

"This isn't funny, Erik," Charles reprimanded, "If you do that, Wanda and Pietro will never forgive you, and we will lose them forever. Unless that ship has sailed already," he ended miserably, thinking of the look of betrayal shadowing Pietro and Wanda's grey-blue eyes as one unflattering truth on top of another was revealed about Erik and him.

"I see no reason to lose hope, lieb," Erik said, moving his hands to cup Charles's face, looking into his endless, blue eyes. He kissed his forehead, once, twice, near the cut. He gently pecked his cheek, still salty from the tears.

"Never thought I'd have to hear that from you," Charles replied hoarsely, his breath hitching, as Erik drew him in for a kiss.

Charles responded enthusiastically, fisting his hands in Erik's silver hair, his tongue sliding into his husband's parted lips. He prolonged the kiss for a further few blissful seconds, before he withdrew abruptly.

"Hank's done refuelling the jet," he said.

Erik nodded. "I'm going to go. Take care of yourself, and David." He helped Charles back into the chair, and then levitated the helmet towards him as he strode out the door, his shoulders squared, battle-ready.

_"I love you. Don't do anything stupid."_ Charles sent out a thought after him, as the door swung shut.


	7. Chapter 7

Erik sat in silence as Stark's jet took off from the Mansion's launchpad. Sam Wilson and Clint Barton were at the controls. Natasha Romanoff was sitting next to Tony Stark, frowning at the laptop screen in front of her, her pale face and red hair highlighted by the faint, electric blue glow. James Rhodes sat on Tony's other side. The android, Vision was seated next to Erik himself and was currently fidgeting with the ends of his long cape.

"Look at this," Natasha said, breaking the silence, angling her head towards Tony slightly, "S.H.I.E.L.D has classified information on something called the 'Light of Life crystal'. It can supposedly harness the power of ancient magic if one knows the right spells, and it can store the souls of whosoever the owner pleases."

"Store the souls?" Tony repeated slowly.

Natasha nodded, "Do you think this is what the Professor saw Django using?"

"I don't know. Is there a picture?" Tony asked.

"Let me check..."

Tony continued, "Charles did say the stone was green, didn't he?" He asked again, louder this time, "Lehnsherr, he did say it was green?"

Erik replied, "Yes, he did seem to think it was green."

"Well, did you get a good look at it?"

"No, I did not." came the curt reply.

Tony rolled his eyes and turned back towards Natasha, "Any luck?"

"Sorry. It seems no one's actually ever seen the stone. At least S.H.I.E.L.D doesn't have any photographic evidence." Natasha sighed, snapping the lid of the laptop shut, "I'm going to get an ETA from Barton."

"Buddy," Tony called out to Vision, "Come sit next to Uncle Rhodey for a while."

Vision got up and Tony unbuckled his seatbelt and took his vacated seat.

"Are you hanging in there, okay?" he asked Erik quietly.

"I just want to get my hands on that...I just hope the children are fine, and that they can return home safely," Erik said smoothly, "And if it's all the same with you, I'd rather not talk till we reach France."

Tony nodded wordlessly as he got up to return to his seat.

"Stark," Erik called out, "Thank you, for letting me ride in your jet, and for coming out all the way with your team to help..."

"Hey," Tony replied quickly, brushing him aside, "Anything for Charles. And for Wanda and Pietro. They're good kids."

Erik nodded, receding into silence and turning to stare out of the window with single-minded concentration.

……

Back in front of Cerebro, Charles began another valiant attempt to track down Django and the twins.

"Come on, come on," he muttered to himself, recklessly cranking up the power of the machine, "You've never failed me before. Where could they possibly be hiding?"

_"Maybe we should be looking for unusual mutant activity? If Django is controlling them, maybe he's manipulating them into using their powers?"_

"Jesus," Charles jumped out of his skin, "David! What are you doing here? Why are you still awake?"

_"I couldn't sleep,"_ came the prompt reply, _"Also, I think Merlin is hungry. He keeps clawing at my legs."_

"How is that possible?" Charles sighed exasperatedly, "I left an entire bowl of cat food out for him before we left for the city. This cat is getting fat. There's a half a tin of tuna in the fridge, you can give him that if you like." He turned his attention back to the screen, the multiple bright lights looked dizzying to him.

_"Gem won't sleep either. She keeps going into your room. I think she's looking for Papa."_ David prodded.

"I wouldn't be surprised. Your Papa has spoiled that dog rotten. Like he has all of you."

_"You know, Mama says that she finds it hard to believe that between you and Papa, you're the stricter parent."_

Charles smiled, "Well I suppose that makes sense. When we were younger, your Mama and I were more carefree and Erik always seemed like our stern school teacher..." He trailed off frustrated. Cerebro's pinpoint on the human's mind slipping away after fleeting contact. He revved up the frequency of the waves to the highest they would go. "David this may take all night. I suggest you take Gem into your room and go to sleep," he said wincing, ignoring the pounding headache that had started afresh.

_"Dad, you're bleeding."_

"What?" Charles asked.

_"From your nose."_ came the reply, as David pointed.

Charles touched the base of his nose and found his fingers covered with the bright, red liquid. "Oh no," he murmured, taking out his handkerchief from his pocket, "This is not good. I'm sorry, David, are you scared of blood?"

_"No,"_ the boy's eyes narrowed, _"Why?"_

"Some people are," Charles replied, pinching the clean, white cloth to his nose and watching in dismay as it changed to red with alarming rapidity. "And you've seen some traumatic things when you were younger."

_"You mean the time the terrorist shot my stepfather to death in front of my eyes when I was seven?"_ David clarified.

"Well, yes, that," Charles said, using his free hand to turn down the controls on Cerebro, "This is no good. David, I'm going to ask you to get me an ice pack from the refrigerator in the infirmary. Uncle Hank keeps them in the freezer. Do you know where to find them?"

David nodded but didn't budge from his place _. "Are you...going to...die?"_ he asked hesitantly.

"What?" Charles said, momentarily distracted by the sheer amount of blood still trailing out of his nose, "No, David, oh no, why would you think that?"

_"I feel as if I leave right now, you might die."_

"I know, honey. But I won't. I promise. You can go to the infirmary really quickly and be back..."

_"How can you be so sure?"_ David said, desperation creeping into his thoughts and clouding Charles's.

Charles's sighed, reaching into the corners of his mind to pull out every ounce of patience required to deal with David. He couldn't help but bitterly admire Gabrielle's, and come to think of it, Erik's, innate ability to put David at ease. Something which Charles had been trying, and failing to do for the last several years.

"I assure you, I won't die. How about this? You go to the infirmary and you can maintain telepathic contact the entire time you're away from me?"

_"Okay. You can tell me the lyrics of your favourite Beatles song."_

Charles nodded, taking the unusual request in his stride. "Okay, here goes.

 

_"Oh yeah, I tell you something, I think you'll understand._

_When I say that something, I want to hold your hand."_

 

_"Really? I Want To Hold Your Hand? At least Mama's favourite is 'Norwegian Wood'."_

_"I'll have you know that 'I Want To Hold Your Hand' is an eternal classic."_

_"Sure. Keep telling yourself that, Dad."_

_"What's yours?"_

_"Eleanor Rigby,"_ came the prompt reply. _“Do you know that one?”_

_“Of course, I do. My mother would play it on the record all the time. Ah! Look at all the lonely people…”_

……

To Charles’s relief, David was back sooner than he expected. He had already taken off the brainwave reader and he leant forward holding the pack to the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes, allowing the throbbing in his head to slow down.

_"Dad,"_ David pressed, _"You can't use Cerebro like this."_

"Yes I can," Charles said tiredly, "I have to. Give me a few minutes, I'll be alright."

_"You'll kill yourself."_

"No, I won't," Charles said soothingly, "Besides, it has to be me. No one else can use Cerebro. I've been training Jean, but she still hasn't gotten a hang of it. Besides, she's home for the holidays. I have to do this. They'll never find Django and the twins without it."

_"I could try,"_ David began, already knowing the reply to that.

"No, you can't," Charles said firmly, "We have no means of knowing how you or any of your multiple personalities would react to the power of Cerebro. And this is hardly the moment to find out." He dabbed at his nose gingerly. His nose was still bleeding, but not quite so much anymore.

_"Here, you can use this,"_ David held out a vial and syringe in his hand, _"It's the strongest anaesthesia Uncle Hank has. You can put me and my multiple personalities to sleep if we do something we are not supposed to."_

"How did you even get this? Doesn't Hank keep this stuff locked up?" Charles asked, his voice betraying his exhaustion, "Nevermind, don't answer that. I'd rather not know."

_"Please, Dad, this is the best hope we have of finding Wanda and Pietro."_ He thrust the anaesthetic towards Charles.

Charles sighed reluctantly, pocketing the vial and syringe and moving his chair and letting David have a seat. "Remember, I'll be monitoring the controls. You just have to focus your mind on Django and the twins. You can narrow down the location till we have the coordinates, but don't initiate any telepathic contact."

David nodded, as Charles fitted the reader over his head. The boy looked small, with the massive contraption with wires looming over him. Charles started up the machine.

Looking at the world through Cerebro was daunting and at the same time exhilarating. David had never felt the true extent of his telepathy until now. Overwhelming as it was, he schooled his wandering mind onto focussing on his singular objective.

A few minutes ticked by as Charles debated in his head whether he had made the biggest mistake of his life. A series of images flashed before his eyes, all entailing his ex-wife ending his life in creative, painful ways. Erik would probably help her. Charles pushed the thoughts from his head. The nosebleed had made him light-headed, that's all.

A pop-up on the screen sprang to life. _"I've found them!"_ David said excitedly, unlatching the reader and standing up. He lurched forward, nausea hitting him like a ton of bricks.

"Careful!" Charles exclaimed, reaching forward to catch him just in case, "The sensation can be unpleasant if Cerebro hasn't been calibrated for your brainwaves. Let's get you on the futon. It's right outside."

_"I can go by myself,"_ David brushing aside his father's concern, _"Send them the coordinates."_

"David."

_"Yes, Dad?"_

"You were brilliant. Thank you, son."

_"I know. I am going to lie down for a bit before I throw up."_

He stumbled out into the hall and found Gem curled up on the sofa. The retriever perked up on seeing him, her big tail waving as David flopped down next to her.

……

The coordinated were relayed to both the teams in time for them to choose a safe landing spot.

"They are in a motel, in a small town called Avignon," Tony Stark announced, completely butchering the pronunciation. "It will be daylight by the time we land so we go in quietly. Our main objective is to get the twins out, unharmed. Now we need to bring our A-game against this man, Django. And we need to get that crystal away from him. Alright?"

Barton parked the jet, close to the little town and the team made their way out, going over the strategy one last time. Erik didn't wait for the rest of them. He levitated himself out of the jet and floated to where the X-Men had huddled, their ringleader, Scott Summers in their centre, giving them a pep talk.

 

"Alright, Rogue, you and Beast will evacuate the building. Gambit, Storm and I will tackle Maximoff. Wolverine, you can take the twins and head back to the jet. The Avengers will back us up against Maximoff. And they're going after the stone as well. Everybody onboard?"

"And what's old Mags gonna do?" Wolverine growled.

"Well let's hope we won't have to find out," Scott ended quietly, wary of the angry German hovering over them like an ominous cloud.

"What are waiting for?" Erik said, floating down to their level.

"Agent Romanoff and I will go in first and distract the receptionist," Ororo said, hurriedly. "That should give all of you time to enter." She threw a large, ornate coat over her shoulders, covering her uniform. Natasha walked over to their group, also in a large coat and a scarf.

"Ready?" the red-headed agent asked.

Ororo nodded and the two ladies took off first, heading towards town. The motel wasn't particularly hard to spot. Ororo held the door open as Natasha walked in, pretending to laugh at some joke her companion had just shared. She made her way over to the counter and rang the little bell. When the receptionist appeared, she began to talk to him, in flawless French, enquiring about room rates. Ororo did a quick survey of the lobby. Two men were sitting across each other at the coffee table. One was smoking, and the other, reading a newspaper.

She spoke surreptitiously into her coat collar, "Beast, do you read? The lobby's clear. Send them in."

Natasha pretended to negotiate the room tariffs as Hawkeye and Gambit snuck in from the side door.

"Storm, we've secured the perimeter," Wolverine mumbled into his sleeve.

"May I help you?" the man at the front desk, cut short his conversation with Natasha and addressed Hawkeye in French. Barton looking slightly annoyed at being caught, stood up straight, crossbow in one hand, and signalled at Natasha with the other.

Natasha nodded, shrugging off her coat, "You need to leave, monsieur."

Beast ambled in, making his way to the other people in the lobby, "Excusez-moi gentleman if you will please come this way."

The men leapt to their feet on seeing Beast's unusual form.

"I'm gonna go upstairs." Rogue said, bounding towards the stairs. Seconds later, her unconscious body was tossed across the lobby like a plaything.

"Cherie!" Gambit cried, rushing to her side.

"You were really so foolish enough as to come after me?" Django thundered. He uttered a chant and a green light flashed, like a lightning bolt towards the ceiling. The ceiling made a frightful, groaning noise before giving away.

"Look out!" Beast yelled, throwing himself over the two men standing close to him, as various people screamed.

The X-Men and the Avengers cowered momentarily and then looked up surprised. Magneto was holding the ceiling up with his powers.

"Get all the civilians out," he ordered shortly.

"I'm on it!" Wolverine said, clambering up the side of the walls.

Erik turned his head back to the ceiling, disintegrating it into smaller pieces.

"We've got this, Lehnsherr," Tony Stark said from inside his suit. The Iron Man and the War Machine took apart the bricks, concrete and metal rebar with astonishing speed.

"I thought I'd already given you a glimpse of what I can do, Lehnsherr," Django roared, wielding the levitating stone menacingly in front of him, "Yet you came back, this time with your pathetic army..."

A blast of red came from Cyclop's plasma vision, hitting Django unerringly in the chest. He was thrown from the stairs, as he hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

"Grab the crystal!" Natasha called out.

The stone had skidded across the floor, on impact from Scott's ray. The Falcon dove to reach it, just as a silver blur raced past him.

"What the..." Sam said, close to swearing.

The silver blur flew up to the landing and materialised into Pietro Maximoff, who helped Django to his feet, returning the stone dutifully into his hand.

"Pietro?" Vision called out disbelievingly.

The mutant angled his head slightly towards the android, and Vision was shocked to see his pupils were no longer their customary grey-blue colour. They were instead, a milky white. They stared into the distance, not focussing on anything in particular.

Natasha took advantage of the momentary confusion to charge at Django, but a blast of magic from him had her hurtling across the hall. Storm was able to summon a wind current in time to save her from cracking her head open against the front desk.

"Enough" Django thundered. "I am sick of these mutants and their tricks."

The stone whined as he unleashed another spell, one Erik was altogether too familiar with. The blinding pain overtook him, as he fell ungracefully from the sky on to the flea-bitten carpet of the motel lobby. He wasn't the only one. Storm was clutching her head with both hands. Gambit had curled up into a foetal position. Summers had passed out next to Rogue and even the mighty Beast tried to lift his head and failed.

"He has somehow managed to incapacitate our powers!" Beast exclaimed, through gritted teeth.

"Well, is there a way to un-incapacitate them?" Wolverine grunted.

Tony looked in horror as the X-Men were laid waste. He charged up his suit to full power and flew towards Maximoff.

"Well, luckily for you, I'm not a mutant," he sniped, blasting at the man with full power. It was enough to burn a whole through the wall of the derelict motel, leaving it in shambles.

Pietro whisked Django away from the line of fire in the nick of time.

"Thank you, my son," Django breathed into his silver hair, "I think it's time to call your sister, and get this over and done with, once and for all."

Pietro nodded, his white, unfocused eyes, blinking twice.

Wanda appeared, climbing down the stairs. Vision started in her direction, only to be thrown flat against the wall, and pinned there for good measure.

"Wanda!" Tony warned, hovering close to her, uncertainly.

"Wanda, my sweet, as we discussed." Django's saccharin voice floated through. The younger twin tilted her head towards him. Her eyes too were white and staring blankly.

She summoned a charm and Tony could feel his suit collapsing in on him. Around him, the Avengers joined the X-Men on the floor, writhing in pain.

"No, stop," Vision said weakly, attempting to pick himself up from the floor, "You'll kill him, Wanda. You'll kill all of them. Don't do this. This isn't you."

"Silence!" an enraged Django spat out, as Tony struggled to breathe. Wanda threw another curse in Vision's way, knocking him out completely.

Django turned towards Erik.

"I have your children now, Lehnsherr. They will come with me, wherever I take them. You've seen what I can do. I trust you or your mind reading husband won't be coming after us again anytime soon."

Erik shifted slightly on the floor. The power of the magic still held him down. He was unable to move. He felt a crushing weight on his chest, and Django's words caused his heart to sink further and further.

"Where would you like to go now, children? Home, to Germany? Sokovia?"

"Anywhere you like," the twins said in unison, their voices flat and devoid of any emotion. Erik's eyes stung as an involuntarily tear rolled down the side of his cheek.

"Good children," Django sighed happily, reaching out to catch the floating stone in front of him, and rolling it over smoothly in his palm, "You know, the right thing to do would be to kill you, Lehnsherr. Or have them kill you. But I won't. For Magda's sake. She would've wanted you to live. She had a kind, forgiving heart. So, instead, you can lay there and watch your children walk away from you, for the last time. That should be punishment enough. Come on, children."

Vision watched helplessly, as the great Magneto tried his best to move his arm towards the twins and failed.

"Wanda!" Vision cried out, as a last effort. He didn't think there was enough of Wanda left in her to even register his voice, but defying all odds, the girl stopped and turned her head towards him. Django's momentary confusion was all the opportunity he needed. The android slowly lifted his hand to his forehead and pressed against the infinity stone with all his power. It emitted a ray that hit the green crystal in Django's hand. The man howled in pain, as the crystal got knocked out of his hand. It crashed to the floor, still focused upon by Vision's intense ray and shattered to pieces, immediately releasing two faint wisps of white smoke.

Vision withdrew the ray, as his head hit the ground with exhaustion. Erik watched the trails of smoke hover over their heads before entering Wanda and Pietro's bodies simultaneously. The twins breathed in before their bodies crumpled to the ground.

Django gave an unearthly shriek of anger before he disappeared in a puff of white smoke.


	8. Chapter 8

Lorna hummed impatiently as the taxi drew up the long drive of the Xavier Mansion. She fumbled as she took out money from her wallet.

"Please keep the change. Thank you," she said politely to the driver as she practically bounded out of the taxi, dragging her suitcase out with her. She pushed open the giant front doors and stowed the suitcase by the coat stand.

"Dad! Papa! David! Anybody home?" she yelled climbing up the stairs to the West Wing, "Wanda? Pietro? Gem? Nobody? Not even Merlin?" Halfway up she changed her mind and took the elevator to the basement.

She ran down the blue-lit corridor, her sneakers skidding across the floor as she made her way towards Cerebro.

"David!" she cried, seeing the sleeping boy on the couch. Gem woke up, stretching and jumped off the couch bounding towards her.

"There's a good girl!" Lorna crooned, stroking Gem's floppy ears, as the large dog smothered her in licks, "Oh, Merlin, you're here too!" she exclaimed stroking the cat that had wound himself around her ankles, miaowing.

David propped himself up on the futon, yawning. His blonde hair was sticking up funnily in all directions. _"When did you get here?"_

"A couple of minutes ago. Is Dad inside?"

David nodded.

"Can you open Cerebro for me?"

_"Sure,"_ came the reply. _"Make sure Merlin doesn't sneak in again, though."_

The X-shaped doors hissed open and Lorna snuck in quickly. Charles was sitting at the desk, wearing the reader, his chin was tucked under his arm that rested on the console, while his other hand used the controls to follow the dots that moved on the giant blue screen.

"Lorna?" he said, quickly taking off the reader and turning around.

Lorna sped up the length of the pathway to the console and threw herself into Charles's open arms.

Charles hugged her tightly to his chest, "Oh my God. When did you get here? How..."

"I called up Uncle Hank when I realised that neither you nor Papa were returning any of my calls," she said, still hugging him tightly, "When he told me what happened, I took the first flight I could back to New York. And then I took a cab." She finally loosened her grip and pulled away, "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her eyes full of accusation.

Charles sighed. "I'm so sorry, love. There was so much going on. We didn't have the time for anything. And you were away, you were safe from all this. We were going to tell you eventually," he said, taking her small hand in his.

"Are they safe? Wanda and Pietro?" Lorna asked quietly.

Charles nodded, pointing to the screen behind him. "I've been tracking the Blackbird, see, it's that purple dot over there. They'll land in a couple of hours. Uncle Hank says that they are unconscious but fine."

"And Papa?"

"I believe he's fine too!"

Lorna gingerly touched the bandage on his forehead, now brown with the dried blood, "You sure aren't. Have you eaten or slept?"

"No, but I'm just going to wait till everyone gets back," said Charles, "Why don't you get David and go down to the kitchen. He hasn't eaten either. I'm sure Anatoly can make something for you quickly."

Lorna nodded, bending down to give Charles a quick kiss on the cheek, "Okay, Dad. Take care."

"See you soon, darling. Don't forget to feed Gem and Merlin. Although don't feed Merlin too much, that cat really is getting tubby."

……

Charles was waiting at the entrance as the Blackbird arrived. Hank parked the jet and opened the door as the X-Men trooped out, battle-weary but victorious.

"Anna Marie, can you walk?" Hank addressed Rogue. She nodded, leaning heavily on Gambit for support. "Excellent, I'll get two stretchers for the twins then."

The X-Men exchanged a few words with Charles and then went inside, exhausted, but happy to be home. Wolverine slapped Scott genially on the shoulder, "Good show, kid," before he took off, presumably to hit the nearest bar.

Charles waited, his fingers drumming the armrest of his chair impatiently as Hank returned with the stretchers. The large, blue, furry man had changed into his lab coat. As he wheeled the twins out, Charles stopped them for a moment to take a look at them and run his hand over the heads. His chest tightened a little. He couldn't believe they were back. He couldn't believe they were not dead.

"You can meet us at the infirmary," Hanks said gently, resuming his pace. Charles nodded, as he turned towards the jet just as the remaining, solitary figure climbed out.

Erik set his helmet down on the floor with a clang as he bent down to hug his husband, "You look like crap, schatz."

Charles patted him on the back, "I think you should stand up. I can hear your bones creak."

Erik straightened up, flashing him a toothy grin as he floated the headgear into his hands. He turned to walk towards the door, pulling Charles's chair alongside him with his powers.

"Lorna is back," Charles said brightly. Erik hummed happily as the doors to the elevator opened. The couple made their way to the infirmary.

Hank ran a tight ship at the medical wing but even he was overwhelmed by Lorna's interrogation.

"So they're not dead-dead. But they're not alive? How is that even possible?

"I don't know. And they are alive. Their souls were restored," Hank said, setting up the IV drip and attaching it to Pietro's arm. "I can't explain what happened, Lorna. Maybe we should wait for them to wake up. Perhaps they remember something."

"But you saw...."

"My dear, I don't know what I saw, but...hmm...that's strange, I swear I had more vials of anaesthesia here."

"Looks like they beat us here," Erik said walking in, the glass doors swinging behind him and Charles. Lorna rushed forward to hug him. Erik held her tightly for a few seconds, before letting her go and running his hand through her bright, green hair. He patted David gently on the shoulder and felt a wave of affection wash over his mind in return, blooming in his chest, followed by an echo of _"I'm glad you're back, Papa,"_ in his head.

Hank had managed to set up the monitors. "Everything looks good. Frankly, I think they should both be awake. But I think their minds and bodies need some time to recover. So I've consulted Dr. MacTaggart and I'm going to give them something to help them sleep peacefully. It should help them get better faster and they should wake up soon."

"How soon?" Lorna voiced what everyone was thinking.

"It depends. A few hours, I suppose. I'd say let's give it 12 to 24 hours." Hank said, walking over to the refrigerator to take out some medicines, "Seriously, though, didn't I keep my ice packs here?"

_"Yeah, I had to give them to Dad when he stroked out in front of Cerebro and gave himself a nosebleed,"_ David intoned in everyone's heads conversationally.

Charles winced as Erik's eyes widened. "You what?!" Erik yelled out.

"Erik, please, this is an infirmary," Hank admonished, taking out the medicines.

"You what?!" he repeated, hissing out the words this time.

"Erik, I'm fine. Tell him I'm fine, Hank."

"I don't know, Professor. This sounds serious."

"Hank. Not helping."

Hank sighed, "Why don't you all clear out of the med wing? Go take a shower, eat something. Professor, Erik, you haven't slept in nearly 60 hours. That's not normal. Just go. I'll call you if there's any change in brain activity."

They left the infirmary reluctantly. David was still tired from using Cerebro, so he went straight to bed. Lorna decided to unpack and then check up on the rest of the X-Men accompanied by Gem and Merlin.

……

Charles and Erik headed back to their room. Erik shut the door and locked it for good measure. He sighed deeply, as he began unfastening his cloak and undoing his armour. "Are you sleepy?"

Charles yawned, "Tired, yes. Sleepy, not really." He rolled himself into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Erik folded his Magneto suit neatly and stacked it away, along with the helmet, as Charles finished brushing his teeth. He came out soon afterwards, smelling of soap and mint. Erik had stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and was ready to use the shower. He paused, brushing his lips against Charles's knuckles, "I'll be out in a minute, lieb."

Charles nodded, sighing. He turned towards the bed, as Erik shut the bathroom door. He finally peeled the old bandage from his forehead before tossing it in the bin. He selected a Murakami novel from his shelf and turned to heave himself onto the bed. He settled in under the covers, wearing the blue pin-striped night suit that only he could pull off, and waited for Erik to come out of the bathroom.

His husband finally swung the door open. His silver hair was still damp from the shower and curling over his forehead. He was clad in nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

"I can't believe you got a nosebleed from working on Cerebro. That hasn't happened in years," he said, picking up on a conversation they hadn't even started.

"I know, but going up against Django...my telepathy had been stretched thin. Well if it hadn't been for David, I don't think I would have ever found them on my own. His telepathy is much stronger than he realises." Charles sighed, folding the book down on his lap. He pinched the bridge of his nose which was still raw from the ice burn,

"Don't worry about David," Erik said softly, quickly changing into his clothes. "He'll be fine. And even if he won't, we'll be there to take care of him. Him, and the others."

Erik flopped down on the bed next to Charles, as his husband resumed reading his novel. Erik's hair was still damp from the shower and he had changed into a pair of grey track pants. He lifted the hem of his soft, white t-shirt to see an impressive bruise purpling near his lower ribs. One of the spoils from his altercation earlier that day in the motel lobby.

"Charles?"

"Yes, dear," Charles hummed, not taking his eyes off from the book.

"Do you think the twins will ever forgive me?"

Charles sighed, putting down the book on his bedside table. He rubbed his eyes, "Children are unpredictable, Erik. They get hurt. They take time to heal. But I'm sure they'll come around, darling. They love you. And they'll understand that you did what you had to do."

Erik looked unconvinced, "You're probably not their favourite person in the world right now, either."

Charles nodded, picking up his book again, "I know. I feel like a lot of the time it's two steps forwards and one step back with the kids. All of them," He flipped through a page, "You know, I had the world's worst stepfather. And I tried so hard not to be like him..."

"Nonsense," Erik scoffed, "You are nothing like him. The children adore you, far more than they care for me, and with good reason. And like you said, they'll get over it." He sat up, leaning against the headboard, reaching across the bed to caress his hand, "One day, when they're old enough, they will learn the truth behind everything that's happened, Tel Aviv and Cuba, and everything else up till now. And they will look past all of it and finally see what I see - how wonderful you truly are. And how much you mean to me. And how much I love you."

"Oh, Erik," Charles said his voice laden with emotion, his eyes clouding. Erik was rarely so vocal about his feelings. He usually let his actions, and their shared telepathy, do the talking. Charles leant across to kiss him. Just as he drew back, Erik snaked his hand around the back of his head and kissed him back. The book fell from Charles's hands as he reached out and ran his palm across Erik's faintly stubbled jaw.

_"Wait, let me move,"_ he thought out loud, without breaking the kiss. He shifted slowly, as Erik helped him to arrange his legs, as he hauled himself onto Erik's lap. Erik's hands moved to his back, tracing his spine through his night shirt till he reached the hem. He lifted it slightly, scraping his blunt nails over Charles's hips as he deepened the kiss. Goosebumps ran over Charles's skin, as he shivered slightly, pressing his body closer to Erik's. His hands were wrapped around the back of Erik's neck, sneaking into his luscious, silver hair, still soft from the shower. Erik made a keen voice at the back of his throat, which usually meant 'now is a good time to start taking off clothes'. Charles's hands slid down to lift Erik's shirt, and then abruptly stopped as he broke the kiss.

"Hank said he'll be monitoring for the next 12 hours..."

"Mein Gott, Charles. Can you not take McCoy's name when my tongue is literally down your throat?"

"Right," Charles said, resuming the kiss, and breaking off momentarily to finally slide the t-shirt over Erik's head.

Erik jerked his hips upward in what was both a necessary and an unnecessary action, and Charles moaned at the unexpected friction. Erik smirked as he began undoing the buttons of Charles's night shirt.

"I am banning you from buying clothes with plastic buttons. You either buy ones with metallic buttons. Or you wear t-shirts like the rest of us."

"Oh! Fashion advice from the man in the red cape."

Erik rolled his hips forward again, and Charles tilted his head back, exposing his pale, freckled skin. Erik licked a stripe, before nipping it gently and then giving, slow, gentle sucks.

"You better stop that, Mr. Lehnsherr. I'm not wearing turtlenecks for the rest of the week."

Erik smiled into his neck, continuing his ministrations, as Charles brought his hands over Erik's back, his nails scraping over the bronze, tanned skin.

"Help me...turn over," Charles said in between peppering Erik's neck with kisses.

Erik did, carefully placing the pillows underneath Charles's head. Charles broke off another heated kiss, to look into Erik's eyes, his pupils now blown black with lust, and grazed his fingertips over Erik's cheekbones and jaw, "Do you ever think..."

"Less talking, and more of this," Erik said, burying his face in Charles's neck, showering him with more kisses, while his hands travelled down Charles's collarbones, tracing a treacherous path over his chest, nipples, the planes of his stomach, and finally pulling at the waistband of his pyjamas.

He supported his lover's hips as he pulled pyjamas off in its entirety, turning his attention to the flushed, pink cock. He gave a few strokes, occasionally thumbing the slit, and brushing over the foreskin. Charles bit his lip from crying out. "You need to take off your pants." he breathed out instead.

He could hear shuffling, and then Erik grunted, "They're off."

Erik aligned his cock with Charles's and began to rut. Charles's made a constricted noise at the back of his throat and closed his eyes, pulling Erik in by the shoulders. Erik's hands were on him again, smearing the precum and stroking himself and Charles together.

Charles came, with Erik still grinding relentlessly against him. He held Erik as he shuddered through his own orgasm moments later, running his hands down his lover's broad back.

Erik leant down to kiss Charles properly. Charles kissed him back, running his fingers through his soft, silver hair. The two shared a few more intimate kisses and then Erik rolled off. Their breathing began to normalise, the sweat cooled off, and the sticky cum between them began to dry.

Erik wordlessly got up and went to the bathroom, returning shortly with a damp towel. Charles was already half asleep in post-orgasmic bliss.

"We can go for round two," he said, grinning lazily as Erik cleaned him up.

Erik kissed him on the nose, "Go to sleep, lieb." He tossed him pyjama bottoms, before turning to find his own. He discarded the towel and finally flopped down on the bed, glad to see that Charles had moved over to his side. The day's exhaustion finally hit him as his head hit the pillow.

"Come here," Charles murmured from the other side of the bed. Erik rolled onto his side, into his customary position, tucked into Charles's chest. "Goodnight, darling," Charles whispered with a yawn, as he wrapped his arms around Erik's lean body. The great master of magnetism liked to sleep as the little spoon at night. Who would have thought?

Charles waited for Erik to finally fall asleep, his breathing slowing down and becoming regular before he finally closed his eyes and allowed sleep to overtake him.


	9. Chapter 9

Charles woke up a few hours later. Erik was still fast asleep, his hands splayed over Charles's stomach, his hair rumpled, an errant silver curl falling over his face. Charles moved carefully so as to not disturb his husband and set himself into his chair.

A quick shower later, he rolled himself down to the infirmary where a sleepy, yawning McCoy was adjusting the drip on Wanda's IV.

"Oh good, you're here, Professor. I was just thinking of calling you."

"Any news?"

"Yes. Wanda's vitals have improved. She should be waking up any time now."

Charles sighed in relief, "Why don't you go and get some rest, Hank? I'll be here with them."

Hank nodded, quickly updating the charts and turning to leave the room. Charles settled his chair next to Wanda's bedside, looking down fondly at her sleeping face.

Hank was right, for a few minutes later, she began to stir and finally blinked her eyes open, looking around at the white walls of the infirmary in confusion.

"Darling, how are you feeling?" Charles asked, gently, leaning forward to stroke her head.

"Dad. Where..." she began hoarsely.

"You're at home. In Westchester, in the infirmary," Charles said soothingly, "Do you remember what happened?"

Wanda's brow was knitted in confusion, "We were playing Game of Life and then..." she gasped out, "It was my turn but Pietro took the dice!"

Charles sighed, and poured some water into a plastic tumbler on the bedside table and stuck a straw into it, "Here, love. Drink this," he said offering it to her. Wanda pushed herself on the pillows and turned her head to taka sip.

Charles waited till she was halfway done with the cup before he began, "Do you remember going to the city? To Uncle Tony's house? To meet Django?"

Wanda looked confused again for a second before she handed the cup back to Charles. Her eyes widened as she recollected the events of the evening.

"What happened? I remember he hurt you and Vati. And then I tried to use my powers against him and I couldn't. I don't know why but something powerful stopped me. And then...I don't know what happened after that," the words rushed out of her, "Did you do something to Django?" She clutched her face, her blue eyes wide with fearful shock, "Is he dead?"

"No, no," Charles said hurriedly, "He's not dead. He's disappeared. We don't know where he's gone. But you don't remember anything from after the events at Stark Towers? You don't remember going to France?"

"France?" Wanda said in genuine shock, "We haven't been in France since before Marya died. Pietro and I must have been eight then."

Charles sighed again, "Okay, I am going to tell you some things. They may come as a shock, but I want you to be brave for me."

Wanda nodded, a sinking feeling in her gut reminding her that she didn't feel brave at all this very second.

Charles recalled the events of the day in Avignon, watching Wanda's facial expression change from shock to horror to anger and finally to sadness.

"So nobody's hurt?" she asked in a small voice, finally.

"No, no permanent damage," Charles said, "Rogue is going to need some patching up. And I think Tony has some bruised ribs, but otherwise, everything is okay. No casualties."

"I don't know what to say," Wanda gulped, her eyes filling up with tears.

"This wasn't your fault, sweetheart. You weren't responsible for your actions, and neither was your brother," Charles said gently, "Come here," he said reaching out to hug her, letting her tears bleed out on to his shoulder.

Wanda's sniffs died out slowly, "Dad," she said, after a while, "Was the rest of the things Django said true? The stuff about Mama and the baby. And about you and Shaw?"

_There it is_ , Charles thought to himself. He released Wanda's shoulders and leant back into his seat.

"When I first met your father, he didn't tell me that he had been married and that he had had a child, who had died. It wasn't until much later that he could share this with me. This isn't something you can come to terms with. He's still dealing with it, even after all these years. You can't get over something like this. I cannot even begin to imagine what I would do if something ever happened to one of you. If he hasn't shared this with you, it is not because he loves you any less, but because he needs to process this pain by himself. You will understand, one day, when you have children of your own," Charles paused, remembering how he had felt when the twins had elected to go with Django, "When you have a child, and you love it, it is at the same time the best and worst possible feeling you can have."

Wanda nodded, and then said slowly, "And what about Shaw?"

"What about Shaw?"

"Are we going to ignore the fact that you killed him?

Charles exhaled, "Does this really bother you this much?"

"Yes! Of course, it bothers me! You're not supposed to be a murderer. Vati kills people. I have hurt people wilfully in the past. So has Pietro. But you're supposed to be the moral compass of..."

"It isn't as simple as it sounds. I had to make a choice. I either helped your father kill Shaw or I had to stand and watch as Shaw killed him. And now, that I say it out aloud, it actually does sound simple. I did what I had to do and if I had to, I would gladly do it again," he ended, looking at the stunned expression on Wanda's face. "Well, maybe not gladly…" Charles said hurriedly.

"No it's fine," Wanda said sighing, "I'm sorry, I had no idea. I'm sorry I thought less of you," she said offering a hand in a peace offering.

Charles squeezed it, "Think nothing of it."

Wanda smiled, for the first time since she had woken, her face lighting up.

"Anything else, my dear? Your Vati is on his way down. He's so happy you are awake."

"No, Dad. Nothing else...oh no! We didn't submit the Chemistry project on the last day of term. Mrs. Santiago won't give us any credits!" she wailed.

"Don't worry about that. I'll get her to give you an extension," Charles shrugged.

"How? She's very strict."

"And I'm a trustee on the school board, don't worry about this, darling," he said, turning his chair, "Look, Vati is here. And Pietro looks like he's about to wake up!"

He wheeled himself away as Erik dove down to hug Wanda, holding her close to his chest. “Mein schatz!” her murmured into her hair, ignoring the tears pricking in his eyes.

In the other bed, Pietro's eyes fluttered open and he coughed out a few times for good measure.

"Hey, kiddo," Charles said warmly, running a hand through his silver hair, "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry," the teen replied grumpily, sitting up, as both Erik and Charles laughed out.

"Then let's get the two of you some breakfast."


	10. Chapter 10

_"I'd like to purchase Park Lane for 350 pounds please."_

"Good choice, Bunny! Here's your change," Wanda said kindly, passing the colourful notes to David.

The children were seated out on the back porch of the Hamptons house, the Monopoly board between them. Across the pool, Charles and Erik were curled up on a large poolside chair, Charles reading a novel and Erik tucked into his side, snoozing in the late afternoon sun.

Lorna rolled the dice, "I pass Go. Now I can collect 200 pounds. Banker?" she said, holding out an empty palm towards Wanda.

Wanda counted the notes and passed them to her. "I wish we could stay in the Hamptons longer," she sighed.

The others murmured in assent. David nodded.

"When is Aunt Gaby coming to pick you up?" Pietro asked, angling his head towards his brother.

_"Tomorrow. We're taking the red-eye back to Tel Aviv at night."_

"And when are you going to San Francisco? Have you booked your tickets?" Wanda asked Lorna.

The younger girl nodded, "Friday. I'm sorry we're leaving the two of you behind. No one's going to be at home, except Scott and Rogue. Kitty and Kurt are coming back only at the end of the month and Jean is only returning when term starts."

"Woof! Woof!"

The kids turned their heads as Gem started to bark.

"Gem! Stop barking at the neighbour's dog!" Lorna called out, "Come here, there's a good girl."

The large retriever ambled up the porch steps and plopped down on Lorna's lap, her thick tail swishing and knocking the silver game pieces off the board.

_"What are you going to do for the rest of the holidays?"_ David asked.

Wanda exchanged a quick look with her twin, "We were thinking of tracking down Django. Find out where he is, and see if he still wants to meet us."

"Is that a good idea?" Lorna asked, partially trying to fend off Gem's licks to her face.

"Well, we're obviously not going to go with him on his terms because, wow, that was not okay, on so many levels," said Pietro. 

"But, we figured, he's not a bad person. He still cares about us. We shouldn't turn our back on him because he made a mistake. And we really should try and meet him half way. Find him, spend some time with him, and then come back. Come to a compromise, you know?" Wanda said with conviction.

Pietro snorted, "You know you sound exactly like Dad when you talk like that."

"I do not!"

Lorna nodded, "Oh yeah, the resemblance is uncanny."

Wanda turned towards David, who simply shrugged.

"Anyway, we figured we should broach the subject with Dad and Vati soon because we will need Cerebro's help to find Django. What do you think, Pietro?" Wanda asked earnestly.

Pietro picked up the pieces of the now forgotten board game, "I'm with you, sis."

From across the pool, Erik and Charles stirred from the chair as Merlin made his way over to them and began kneading their chests and stomachs.

"Kids, it's time to head back inside," Charles called.

"Polar Bear, if you want to help me bake the muffins, you're going to have to pre-heat the oven," Erik said, stretching.

The sun was almost about to set, casting a reddish glow on the seaside house, as the children packed up their stuff and trooped back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Your kudos and comments are always welcome.


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